What Was Missing
by blisss
Summary: Everyone has their own vision of those 19 years after The Battle, and before The Epilogue. This is mine. Very canon. Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, maybe some George/Angelina and Bill/Fleur. T for later chapters.
1. After

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A/N: This is my take on what happened after the Battle for Hogwarts. I know many (many) people have already written their own ideas and how they filled in those nineteen years, but….in each one I find something lacking. Do not get me wrong, a few stories blow me away! No doubt you will find things lacking or missing or plain WRONG in my imagined up little version. But, that's just how I expect it (:

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This introductory chapter of sorts will be written a little differently than the rest of the story, so bare with me. It is necessary to give background when launching any type of fiction this well plotted I believe. Next chapter (co-posted) will actually have dialogue and be…more fast passed?

Disclaimer; It was once said that copying someone is the most sincere form of flattery. Well Mrs. Rowling, I do hope I flatter you.

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Harry's body ached. His eyes stung as he attempted to open them. His mind was oddly blank and his grogginess had not yet left his brain, allowing him only the most basic of thoughts.

Pain. Hunger. A feeling of sadness unaccounted for until deeper thought was made available to him. Confusion.

In the few seconds it had taken Harry Potter to wake, squint, and roll slightly, these feelings had taken him. In the next second he processed two more things. One. He was not alone. He could make out a hum of quiet talking somewhere to his immediate left. Two. He wanted to be alone.

Still, these thoughts were very basic. The thoughts one might have after waking from fourteen, maybe fourteen and a half hours of deep, uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. Harry felt it would have been so easy to turn back over and drop right off again, that would surely dull the pain. He wouldn't have to think…so no more confusion.

But alas, hunger. It gripped his stomach tight, and ached more painfully still the longer he remained conscious.

After approximately ten seconds of nearly thoughtless decision making, Harry acted on instinct and sat up slightly, his left elbow pressing into the ever so soft mattress as he angled himself away from the rays of sunlight streaming in through the windows to his right.

Blinking to clear sleep from his face, he squinted and flexed his eyes, simultaneously reaching for his glasses, which he had had the forethought to remove before lying down those fourteen and a half hours ago. Looking straight ahead, and moving his legs towards the side of the bed he caught sight of Ron, his best friend, lying flat on this four poster bed, the curtains pulled back, with this clothes and shoes still on, staring up at the ceiling.

In the five seconds it took Harry to do all this, it all came back. His mind was instantly awake, replaying for him the events sleep and utter exhaustion had let him forget.

He was at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts again because they had been fighting. They being everyone. Everyone who could fight for freedom from Voldemort. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Collin, others….they had not lived to see the end of the fight. The fight…no…the War. The war they had been fighting for months. Why they had been running. Why he was not waking up on this Sunday, or was it Monday, and dressing in school robes. Because Voldemort had killed his parents, that is where his thoughts brought him. And for a moment, because he had let that sink in, Harry let himself feel proud. Proud that he had finally avenged his parents murders. But that was only a moment.

The pain returned as he focused on Ron. The confusion was gone, now that he realized why he was in so much pain.

Physically, his body was bruised. Probably a sprain or two thrown in for good measure. Where _the curse _had hit him was particularly sore. Yet his scar felt no pain. And in realizing that, Harry moved past the pain.

Mentally, emotionally, he was a wreck. The rush of emotion had choked him up, and he was still fighting to hold back the gasp that had arisen within him. He looked at his feet for another few heartbeats, bowing his head down from Ron.

Why were things moving so fast… days worth of feeling and information crammed into seconds….

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A/N: EDITED! Gasp. My first submission was so full of mistake I feel ashamed


	2. And Time Slowed

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A/N: Thanks for continuing!

I am not sure how far along in those nineteen years I will be taking this story. All the way? Very difficult task…review or send a message to me if you have thoughts. I know you only have one chapter, but first impression are very reliable if you ask me. Book by its cover my ass. True, you don't know everything…. But the important stuff I have always believed is always shown in plain view of anyone wise enough to notice it.

That being said…. Opinions welcome.

Disclaimer; It was once said that copying someone is the most sincere form of flattery. Well Mrs. Rowling, I do hope I flatter you.

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As time slowed for Harry, he looked up once more. Ron was now sitting upright too, with his feet on the floor directly opposite him. Harry saw now, that the soft humming of talk had been between him and Hermione. She must have been flat on Ron's bed also, hidden by his bulk. Now though, she held Ron's hand in her own, a natural looking gesture, and sat slightly behind Ron, her legs tucked under her as she rested on one hip, leaning into him with her eyes locked on Harry.

The three sat there for a time, just sat. No words exchanged as time felt the pangs of emotion between them. Finally, Ron, who had always possessed the least amount of tack, cleared his through quietly. This was not an "interrupting-this-awkward-silence" sound, but more a sound made when one was clearing his voice, so as it would not crack from lack of real use or emotional strain. Nothing was awkward anymore. Not with them.

Gulping slightly Harry interrupted what might have been a question, with one of his own.

"How long has it been… I feel like I slept for ages..."

Hermione answered, always one for facts and answering she was.

"Its been about fourteen hours I think…almost time for dinner."

"Where is…everyone" He said paused before saying everyone, because not everyone was still here. Fred. Remus. Tonks… they weren't here. He kept going back to that in his mind. Everything now, was fixed around loss.

"Most students without relatives here left after lunch. Some families too. But the Ministry sent their people out…so it still seems crowded. A lot of families stayed though, because McGonagall mentioned to a few that things had to be done. Many…many people took their…dead home. Some are still here. Its been crazy. I don't think anyone knows exactly where to start…"

"The Death Eaters?"

"All rounded up. Or dead." Hermione finished bluntly.

Looking towards Ron, Harry didn't even have to venture words as his silent pleas for information were answered.

"Everyone is alright. Mum and Dad got everyone to sleep a while this morning…but I don't think they slept at all. Dad seems to be more important than any of us realized…he's giving orders left and right. People keep grouping him together with Kingsley and McGonagall. He tries to stay with Mum though. She's still in a bad way…same for George. And Percy. None of them talk too much, mention…_him_': Ron had to pause here to wipe his eyes on the back of his sleeve, Hermione started rubbing circles on his back, and he went on "and everyone cries. But mostly…everyone is kinda…happy? No that feels like the wrong word." He glanced at Hermione, who met his gaze and nodded slightly.

"Happy…" Harry couldn't understand it. He felt too twisted up inside. Full of grief and guilt.

"Really…its strange. There just so…much. Its hard to feel it all." Hermione added, closing her eyes and laying her cheek on Ron's shoulder. "That's why we came up here…things slow down."

"I…I don't want to go down. I don't want to see everyone…"

"We know Harry. But you need to eat." She added, sounding warm.

"Kreacher will bring me up something." He countered.

"Mate, Kreacher's gone. Gone back to Grimauld Place already. Told me and Hermione he wanted to get things set up for you ,and us too if we wanted to go back. Said he had done enough here. Honestly, that elf is the only one of us who seems to be _doing_ anything!" Ron chuckled, obviously still fond of Kreacher. The elf's warm food or the sudden lack of it for months seemed to have touched Ron to his core.

"And…" Hermione added quickly and more quietly "And Harry, people are worried about you. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall keep asking us every few hours to come up and check on you. They don't believe us when we say you're still asleep…"

Harry rolled his shoulders, and stretched his neck. He had been asleep for a while.

"I suppose…" He really wouldn't have even considered going down to face everyone, but then she had mentioned Ginny. Even now, after everything., the thought of her set his heart pounding to a rhythm consistent with a heavy metal rock song. Like the stuff Dudley and his gang used to pretend they liked, because it made them seem tough and impressive.

Ron stood and pulled Hermione with him, turning so his back was to Harry and held her wrists up to his chest and looked into her face, the expression there was of pure, unfiltered love, any idiot could see that. Hermione leaned in, resting her forehead against his and smiling.

They stood like that for a few moments until Harry, now awake and fully aware, coughed not so subtly and they twisted around, still holding hands, to look at him.

"You know mate, this isn't going to stop." Ron said with a wicked grin. He chastely pressed his lips to Hermione's temple, and she _giggled_, yes, Hermione Jean Granger _giggled_, in response.

"Fine…but you realize this gives me permission to do the same with Ginny right?" Harry laughed, dodging Ron's poorly aimed kick at his shins and heading for the door. He was glad it wasn't impossible for him to laugh. He was glad that even though the sadness he felt was deep and painful, he could still laugh at things that truly made him happy. Like his best friends, and Ginny.

As they headed down the stairs towards the common room, Harry caught sight or his torn jeans and trainers. Stopping midway down, he looked closer at himself. He had blood and mud on his shirt, greasy hair hung in his eyes, and his fingernails looked black.

"Uh…maybe I should change and uh, shower first?" Harry pinched his clothing, noticing how stiff it was with filth.

"Right…but hurry it up. We'll tell them you're coming all right?" Hermione chimed bossily as she and Ron continued walking for the Common Room, and beyond the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Harry didn't bother to respond. He was wondering where he would get fresh clothes.

"Um…Kreacher?" Harry called to the silence.

With a loud _crack_, Kreacher reappeared on the stairs two down from Harry. He looked up and gave what Harry could only assume was a smile, but the nearly toothless, gummy and lopsided way Kreacher delivered it threw him off.

"Master is awake! This is good news. Kreacher has been working hard to get the house ready for Master. Kreacher is afraid the Death Eaters did not treat Master's inheritance too kindly. But Kreacher has his own magic to put things right. He is pleased with what he has done so far…"

"Oh, Kreacher that's great. Really thank you so much…but err, I cannot really go home just yet." Harry answered, cutting short the elf's longest speech to date with a quick deliverance of his own. He could see the elf was now quite fond of him.

Kreacher tilted his head to the side, his overly large bat like ears flopping. Harry's heart seemed to clench. Dobby's ears had always done that. Trying to focus on the task at hand Harry went on

"Things need to be done here first. All I really wanted was a change of clothes so I could shower and uh, you know, look better?"

"Right away Master, right away!" And before Harry could add anything else, Kreacher had _cracked_ away and he was left standing on the stairwell, alone. He hardly had time to think about where the elf was going to get him clothes when _crack_ he was back., this time on the step just below Harry, so when he lifted the clothes above his head, they were level with Harry's chest.

"Here you are Master. Kreacher got Master clothes he believed Master would be partial too."

"Um…thank you so much Kreacher. And, its just Harry please, none of this "Master" stuff. Okay?"

"Kreacher does not know what to think Master Harry. This is not normal for a House Elf."

"Uh…well. Just Harry please. But things are going to be different Kreacher…and speaking of different. I am really happy you're fixing up Grimauld Place for me and everything, but just make sure you rest and eat enough okay? You fought just as hard in the Battle as everyone else."

"Kreacher is honored to serve Master Harry. Kreacher will do as he wishes." And with another semi-smile, Kreacher apparated away.

Harry frowned, he would have to work on the "Master" thing a little more…but this was a start. Now…time for a shower. The felt as if he was contaminating his new clothes just by holding them in his grimy hands.

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**A/N: EDITED! Gasp. My first submission was so full of mistakes I feel ashamed**


	3. First Steps

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! I have no good excuse. So lets just dive in and wait no longer!**

**But I must say I hope you enjoy this one, especially my introduction to the Weasleys. I hope I described them well enough. George was particularly hard, for as a twin myself, I cannot rightly put into words the feeling I think of at the thought of loosing my brother. I cannot say it is entirely different from loosing any other family member, but to me it would mean more. The connection is one only another twin could really understand…I hope I show that I just might for George's sake.**

**I doubt my brother will ever forgive J.K.R for killing off Fred. He doesn't really except it **

**Disclaimer; It was once said that copying someone is the most sincere form of flattery. Well Mrs. Rowling, I do hope I flatter you.**

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Harry took a long time showering. He stood for some time in his clothes before removing them and striping for a real wash. He loved the feel of the warm water on the back of his neck, the smell of the soaps and washes, but mostly, he just needed to be clean.

Yes, he had showered while staying with Bill and Fleur in Shell Cottage, they had had a small wash room in the tent lent to them by Perkins too, but nothing compared to a shower in the Hogwarts baths.

As he stood, relishing the peace of the steam, he watched the grime seeming to melt from his body. Mud, from when he had fallen to the ground to avoid being trampled by the giants. Ash, from Fiend Fyre in the Room of Requirement. Dust from flying debris as he ran through the castle.

And as Harry watched the muddy, bloody, water swirl down the drain, he thought about all of this. He thought about the trials he had endured, but mostly he thought about the ones who had not endured. A desire to wash had brought him to the baths, but guilt and grief held him there for well over an hour as he let himself remember and cry for those he couldn't, hadn't saved.

After his tears were spent, and he felt as though he could not cry any more, at least not now, Harry turned the tap off and dried. He threw on the clothes Kreacher had given him, and washed his glasses properly, even trying a poor _Tergio _charm on his trainers to attempt to remove some of the muck that coated them. It worked for the most part. But they would need to be replaced soon that much was obvious.

Appraising himself one last time in the mirror, Harry nodded, resigning himself to the worst, and left Gryffindor Tower for the Great Hall.

"You should not look so glum you know…" The Fat Lady called after him as he walked away from the common room, "You did what you've been trying to do for years meh' boy…defeating him; I remember your first year here. That much was always plain…" She let drop as he ignored her.

Stopping just before he rounded the corner, Harry half turned, and spoke low in a low, but carrying voice in the echoing corridor, "What was plain?"

"Why, that you would win of course." The portrait answered. A smile heard in her tone. Harry walked on. Her words ringing in his ears.

As he made his way lower in the school, closer to the scene of the Final Duel, as it would years later be referred to as, Harry took in the destruction that surrounded him.

Portraits fallen from their hangings, their frames cracked or broken apart, the canvases singed, torn, and falling slack. Suits of Armor were missing from their plinths, and the ones that had returned bore obvious signs of battle. Statues and gargoyles that had been placed through the halls were shattered, and scattered pieces along the stone floor.. Tapestries were either half burned or were now piles of ash on the floor under the faded bit of wall where they used to hang. Hardly anything was untouched the closer Harry moved to the Great Hall.

When he finally stepped down from the cracked and probably unsafe marble staircase and into the Entrance Hall, Harry was almost overcome by tears once again. The beautiful windows that framed the oak front doors were mere holes in the castle wall now. There were many actual holes in the wall too, the size of giant's fists probably. Ruble made it hard to walk a straight path as he tried to cross to the large doors of the Great Hall, and as he stepped nearer still, he encountered precious jewels and stones, which could only have come from the giant house hourglasses themselves, obviously shattered by spell work or strength.

But now that he stood in the doorway, all thoughts of the physical damage the school had sustained left Harry's mind. Now he was standing, looking at the people who had fought, those that remained a near sixteen hours after the war had been won.

He saw small groups students, those who had stayed to fight with him clustered around the hall at equal measure. Families of fours and fives sat huddled in their own spaces, mothers holding hands with their husbands, a head on their shoulder or in their laps. The Hogwarts teachers too were all in a group near the front of the hall, speaking over a large roll of parchment. He also saw Ministry workers, going from group to group collecting what he could only assume was information, names, etc.

All that information took Harry a good thirty seconds to process, and in that thirty seconds, a group straight ahead of the doors in which he stood had noticed him too.

The first to see him was a woman. A woman with flowing blonde hair, pale glowing skin and perfect proportions. However that was all dimmed by a mask of pain and sadness, along with physical factors. The woman's normally immaculate robes were ripped, torn and stained with various dirts and residues. She was all the more beautiful for it.

Her head was facing the doorway, resting against the shoulder of her husband, who held her in his lap and had his arms loose around her frame. Her eyes were clouded with tears, his puffy and now dry. He too looked in poor condition, but his leather boots and jacket had held together better than the thin threads of his wife's garments.

He sat close to another girl, this one younger and clearly his relation, for they shared the same brilliant red hair and freckled skin. Her face was hidden from Harry, she seemed as if she might be sleeping in her arms, her head on the table, her body sagging against her brothers.

To this girl's other side sat a motherly figure. That seemed the only way to describe the woman at the center of this knot of people. She was roundish and fair, her hair pulled back from her face and her robes as tattered as the rest of them. Her expression was unreadable to Harry. For he had never lost a child, and therefore could not understand the pain of this strong woman. For her pain was not as simple as the pain of death. It was deeper, more complex, more beautiful and more terrible at the same time.

And equally strong looking man had his arm around this woman's shoulders. His glasses were for once straight on his nose, an interesting sight. He was taller somehow, not as fat nor as balding as one might have seen him. He was tense with emotion that much was clear though. He leaned on his wife as much as she leaned on him.

Now across the large wooden table from these five, were three more red headed men. One was thick set, but defiantly muscular. His touch clothes looked almost untouched by the fighting, but the burns along his arms and hands looked more inflamed then ever. He had to be in pain.

Maybe it was pain equal to the brother beside him. But no…that pain was untouchable. How silly of Harry to forget. This brother was taller than any of those red heads around him, and still he seemed smallest. His face was anguished, his eyes dead. It looked as if someone had preformed the Dementors' kiss on this boy, then decided they would give back half of what they took.

And again another red head beside him, this one wore glasses like his father across from him, but they were crooked and unpolished. His hair, normally so controlled was bushy and unruly. His shirt wrinkled and his trouser legs frayed.

And finally, the only two people Harry had seen so far. Ron was the last of the Weasley clan Harry saw. Maybe it was because he was half hidden behind Hermione. They stood behind the Percy , Ron with his arms around Hermione, resting his chin on her shoulder, his arms around her chest, holding her tight. Hermione held his arms to her, her eyes closed. They were swaying slightly, though neither of them realized it. They just listened to the conversation they had walked in on an hour before.

But by the time Harry had scanned these familiar faces, the beautifully surprising woman had murmured something to her husband in soft tones, Bill had in turn nodded to Charlie, who had flexed his stiff, healing arms as he turned half on his bench to look to the doorway too. Molly and Arthur leaned forward as the attention of the group began to shift, and smiled at each other for a second. Percy poked Ron in the arm and pointed silently. They all stopped talking when they saw him. That seemed to alert the sleeping figure with her head in her arms, the buzz of conversation seemed to have been acting as a sedative for her.

Harry walked slowly forward, one foot in front of the other at a ridiculously slow pace. But no one thought it was slow. They were all moving slow right now. Everyone except the girl. Ginny seemed to have been waiting for this, and her movements startled everyone, for they were not yet used to normal speed. But when she had raised her head and saw him coming, Ginny had made a bee-line towards Harry. He stopped as he saw her rise, stepping over the bench she shared. He didn't think about stopping, he just did. His mind was oddly blank after such a long examination of the family before him. But now Ginny was walking fast at him, now she was jogging slightly, a bound in her stride, and now…now she was running, running to meet him.

She flew at him, a mane of red hair slapping him about the head as her body collided with his. He stumbled back a pace, and rebalanced. His arms automatically caught her around the waist and shoulders, he hugged as tightly as she did with her arms about his neck. After a few seconds, which felt like ages, she pulled away, only a few inches though. Just so her lips could find his flesh, and she kissed him.

First Harry felt her lips on his cheek, then his neck, then back to his cheek, to his temple, to his other cheek, and finally to his mouth. And he kissed her back. It was instinct, it was passion, and it was so right. His pain all but forgotten in that moment he finally had her safe in his embrace. He realized then that this, this moment was what he had been fighting for all along. This moment of love and peace, for everyone, not just him, and in many different forms.

Pulling away from him after a long moment Ginny spoke "You prat. You stupid, stupid prat. You kept me waiting. I was waiting up all night and day for you. You were always so noble before, and now you can't even be bothered to find a girl and let her know you're okay…" But she was smiling as she spoke, tears falling from her bright blue eyes. She didn't let him answer her, she just kissed him again. And he kissed her back.

"I'm sorry…" He began, and paused. He wasn't sure where to begin with the apologies.

"Stop. Stop right there. Because that's the only thing you get to apologize for. Keeping me waiting, but not anything else. _Do you understand me_…?" Ginny cut in. She needed to make it very clear to him that no one blamed him, that no one wanted to blame him, and no one would take his apologies.

"No Ginny… I need to say this…"

"No! No you don't! You did everything you could. I know you did. You wouldn't have done anything less."

"Fred…"

"Was not under your orders! In fact, no one was. You didn't even want to fight when you came here. We roped you into it really…so maybe _we should say we're sorry to you_…for making you feel guilty when it wasn't your fault at all." She spoke fast. Faster than usual. She was close to tears again by the end of her speech, but she seemed to be done with hysterics and dramatics for the time being.

Harry shook his head. He knew not to fight her on this. But that didn't mean he was going to listen to her. He let her lead him back to her family quietly though. They had sat and watched the exchange between the pair, with different reactions.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy seemed shocked. Had their little sister just snogged Harry Potter? What was going on?

Hermione and the Weasley parents smiled kindly as the couple approached. This was not a shocking spectacle to them it would appear. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley knew their daughter.

George didn't seem to notice what was going on. His head was turned, watching. But his eyes still held the same dead look as before, and his face was unreadable.

Fleur spoke first. Her voice attempting to be as light as her hair. " Oh, 'Arry… Ginny…I vas not awares you two were seeing ea'tch ozer?"

"We were, then we pretended we weren't, but we are done pretending." Harry shook his head at Ginny's pronouncement and wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding her fast against him. Harry could feel hot tears rolling down her face. He never thought of Ginny as the crying type, but obviously she was overcome.

But now Harry could just hold her. So turning in his seat slightly, he faced her mother.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't crying anymore, but tears are only the first signs of grief, and the tear tracks had already faded from her face. Harry opened his mouth, but Arthur Weasley stopped him with a look. Plainly, no one wanted to hear he was sorry, so he sat silent for a time.

No one spoke for a few minutes. Charlie, Bill and Percy all seemed to be sharing looks back and fourth across the table. If Harry hadn't been so distracted, he might have had the foresight to be worried.

But then Kingsley and McGonagall appeared behind where Ron and Hermione still stood, swaying their little dance, and the possible Minister-to-be cleared his throat tactfully.

"Author, Molly…everyone. We know this isn't the most wonderful time, but may we have a few words?" Kingsley's deep voice was still strong and reassuring sounding, but the effect was somewhat lost on his audience.

"Yes. Of course Kingsley." Mr. Weasley sat up straighter, his wife did the same. As sad and hopeless as things might seem, they were strong people, and no one saw this better than Harry. Mr. Weasley, who he had always thought of as relaxed and somewhat vacant looked impressive, even next to tall, dark Kingsley.

Author sported his own battle scars, and bore up under emotional ones that would have brought a weaker man to his knees. He also carried his lovely Molly through this too, for though Harry knew she had fire and life within her, the power that she had shown in her duel with Bellatrix was all but gone from her demeanor.

"Well… we, Minerva and myself, along with other staff of both the Ministry and the school are organizing a restoration crew. We realize much must be done these next few days, but as there is only so much we can do personally for those grieving, we have decided that our efforts would best be focused here and at the Ministry. I must return there within the hour as it is." Kinsley paused before going on.

"Right now we are taking trusted employees of the Ministry and returning to correct the corruption that has endured there. Thanks to records by we Order members most of the changes in law and system have been set right by simple repeal, however more complex contracts and procedures are still being investigated. The most important and complicated aspect however, seems to be the employees themselves. Over half the Ministry is under suspicion for one thing or another. Most of these rumors are just hearsay, but we cannot afford to be lax with our security. We have sealed any means of exit to the building and after clearing most heads of departments or assigning new, trusted members of staff to their positions, we have established a clear line of inquiry that is being followed. Some departments have already been "swept" as we are calling it. Larger offices, are still in the process of the sweep." Kingsley finished, not appearing winded from the lengthy speech.

Everyone looked to Mr. Weasley, who was nodding gravely, he took his arm from around his wife's shoulder and took off his glasses to wipe them. When he replaced his spectacles upon his face he looked to the possible Minister-to-be and spoke firmly,

"Yes. I suppose you'll want me to check into my own offices then?"

Even though he asking a question, his voice held its own authority. This startled Harry. He had never thought of Mr. Weasley as a particularly strong wizard. Yes he was in The Order, he had survived the battle, but never had it occurred to Harry that Author Weasley was the type of authority. Then again, hadn't Dumbledore just told him that those who do not seek power are those who should be in power? Mr. Weasley was proof of this. He had never wanted anything more than his crummy little broom shed of an office, but now he was on first name terms with the man likely to be named Minister of Magic and they were consulting on proper procedures, as equals.

Kingsley shook his head at Mr. Weasleys response. "No, we have already managed to clear your staff. Not one was under any real suspicion. And as for Perkins well…" Kingsley chuckled, "Perkins wasn't really aware there was much of a war going on. I think it's time we let the poor man retire to tell you the truth."

Author smiled. "I would like my old office back. And with him gone there might actually be room to sit."

Grinning right back Kingsley answered good naturedly "Yes, just maybe. Or maybe you'll be interested in new quarters. But we'll have time to sort that out later. Would you and Percy here care to accompany me back to the Ministry? I have been at Hogwarts long enough and I think Minerva is capable of handling things here by herself. I have already sent most of the Aurors back."

Author looked to his wife and to his family, considering. "When would you need us…"

Kingsley nodded, understanding. "If you wish to come today, I will meet you in the entrance hall in one hour. If not, then please take as much time as you need. I dare say you all have earned it."

With that Kingsley nodded to Harry, who got the impression he was not skipped over just yet, and to the Weasley clan, then to McGonagall and then walked away along the tables, the cluster of remaining Aurors who waited for him.

McGonagall stepped up next. "I will be quick. I just want to update you all on what will happen with the school, before rumors start to fly." Her quick , Scottish accent was brisk and she spoke with distain, clearly she had already had problems with the press.

"We plan on rebuilding immediately. All the staff that is capable has agreed to stay on and help repair damages, though I do expect many will want to retire after this is all over…" her eyebrows creased, this was another worry obviously, that she would be short staffed whenever the school reopened, "The magic around the school is strong, and where some things can be repaired simply, others will take time. However the Four Founders were not unintelligent when the cast their charms on Hogwarts, and much of the castle has even begun to repair itself."

Hermione turned to stare at McGonagall and spoke "Professor how is that even possible?"

McGonagall smiled at Hermione "Not everything about Hogwarts has been written in a book Ms. Granger, some things are still mysteries." That shut Hermione up. But she didn't look offended, if anything she looked somewhat determined that she would uncover some of those mysteries.

"But continuing." McGonagall turned her attention back to everyone, "We are looking for a restoration crew. Asking all those old enough to participate in the clean up for a short time. It is likely the repairs will last well into the summer, and I am not certain all can be fixed before September first, but as long as enough has been done we plan to reopen as usual. Kingsley and I both agree that not reopening would be the worst thing possible at this time."

Harry spoke up here "I'll stay professor. For as long as you need me." He felt that as it was his fault any of this had happened, it was fitting he stay and see things were put right. Not only that, but Hogwarts had been his home for six years, and he owed it to the school if no one else.

"Same for us." Ron nodded to Harry, tightening his grip on Hermione. "We've got this far mate. You can't expect Hermione and I not to finish this with you." Hermione nodded, her eyes becoming watery. "You won't get rid of us Harry." She spoke firmly.

"I want to stay too." Ginny spoke, sitting up in Harry's lap and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. The fire was back in her gaze, and she looked to her parents for permission. "Please Mum…"

Molly Weasley bit her lip, considering this for a moment. "Fred's… Fred's funeral will be the day after tomorrow. We've already made arrangements to have the reception at Muriel's… but if you want to stay a few days I suppose you can. You're almost seventeen…" She sniffed and gripped her husband's hand firmly.

"No." A quiet voice spoke, and everyone turned to look at George.

"What dear…" Molly spoke in a hushed voice to her son

"I said no. Fred wouldn't want his funeral at Muriel's! He would want it at the Borrow. Or at someplace we can all walk around without her commenting on how our hair clashes with the grass…" George managed to smile a little at this, but the effect was not flattering on his face. His eyes were still dead looking. "She told us that once when we were staying with her. That's why we charmed the grass pink Mum. We told her pink and orange complimented each other so much better."

Harry gathered this was the most George had spoken in a while, possibly sense the battle had ended, and his family was in awe. But looking at Mrs. Weasley he saw her smiling. "Oh, you're right Georgie. Muriel's wasn't a very good idea. I thought her yard would be nicer than ours though…"

"Fred never cared about nice things Mum. Not unless it was dragon skin or women." Ginny laughed, her voice, though sad, still sounded like a hundred bells to Harry.

"Yes. Of course…' Molly smiled for a second too, then they were quiet, watching George, but he seemed to have finished with talking.

"Er…well. I will be happy to have you all stay. The dormitories were you slept last night should suit you fine. We will meet here tomorrow morning for a distribution of duties, then begin. I'll leave you all now.", and with that McGonagall excused herself from the table. The group was silent once more.

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**A/N: Goodness I need a beta. I hate editing my own pieces, because I always miss things. However, I don't think I would be very good with one. I write on my own time, and updates are never expected. So it wouldn't be fair. **


	4. Sleep is Peaceful

**A/N: Hello everyone! So this might be a little (ha-ha) sooner than expected, I know it normally takes me over a month to post a new chapter (terrible rate) but last chapter seemed like it was all about feelings (which of course, is expected) but now I am excited to have everyone doing something! More romance (winky face) and more Ron/Hermione (because I love them). **

**Disclaimer; It was once said that copying someone is the most sincere form of flattery. Well Mrs. Rowling, I do hope I flatter you.**

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It was a hard couple of hours before Harry could excuse himself the Gryffindor dormitories once more.

First he had spoken to the Weasleys about Fred and the funeral to be held in two days time. He talked to Mrs. Weasley, telling her again and again how sorry he was, but she wouldn't hear it. She just kept shaking her head and repeating things like "One of the family" and "Never. Not your fault.". Still she cried as they talked about the son she had lost and the preparations being made for his burial, and even though Harry soon began to forgive himself for Fred's passing, he still felt guilty about the pain he was causing the woman he considered a second mother.

He and the Weasleys also talked about what they would be doing to help rebuild the Wizarding World. Mr. Weasley had decided, with some insistence from his wife, to join Kingsley at the Ministry, promising to return in good time to take her home to the Burrow. Percy had decided against going in for now, attempting to joke with everyone that he didn't really have a job anymore, considering his previous boss was now among the Death Eaters and Suspected awaiting questioning, and that he had resigned his post during the battle anyway. This comment received a snort from George, but everyone knew Percy was just trying to make up for lost time with his family. No one blamed him for staying.

Around mid-afternoon Harry left the Weasleys to begin his rounds with the families around the hall. He received more thanks, more praise, and a lot more watery stares. Most groups he met had lost someone, sometimes more than one someone to the battle. He felt their losses and told them how sorry he was. Several nodded with kind smiles, some merely shook their heads, yet others were like Mrs. Weasley and denied that his was in any way responsible. Collin Creevy's brother Denis was like this, coming to collect his brother's body for his parents. As they were Muggles they could not see the school, let alone enter it. Denis told Harry that Collin was a fighter, and about all he had done to help the DA in the resistance from where he had spent his year in hiding. This made Harry's heart hurt. He wished he had been kinder and more patient with Collin during his time at Hogwarts. He agreed to attend Collin's funeral, which would be held the day after Fred's.

Collin's funeral was not the only one which Harry was invited to as he made his rounds. Though not all the dead would have a public funeral, and many would be small, just immediate family, those who wanted him asked for his attendance. However many of the funerals clashed and he had to refuse later families, telling them that he had agreed to attend others and would not have time to be present. They understood. The death toll was no secret.

By evening Mr. Weasley returned from the Ministry. Though he had spent only a couple of hours there he was exhausted. After eating a meal provided by the elves in the kitchen (which was excellent as ever, if not as grand. The stews, warm tarts, and rich puddings were perfect comfort foods) Mr. Weasley gathered up his clan apart from Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione and they walked to the boundary lines of the school to disparate home. The remaining four promised Mrs. Weasley they would be at the Burrow before breakfast on the day of the funeral to help with preparations. Ginny hugged her mother tightly for some time before they parted, as did Ron. Hermione went in for a short pat on the back, but Mrs. Weasley embraced her just as fiercely as she had her own children. She did the same with Harry. Both teens blushed slightly, but loved the moment all the same.

When all was said and done, they returned to the Gryffindor common room, where they met Seamus, Dean, Luna and Parvati Patil with her sister Padma. They had all spoken earlier, and still not much was said. They were all waiting to hear news of Lavender Brown, who had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback. Though he had not bitten her, she had bad claw marks, and her twenty foot fall had left her very broken. She was in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey for now, but if her condition did not improve by tomorrow morning at first light, she would be transferred to Saint Mungo's.

Passing by the group, where Dean sat holding Luna's hand as she gazed around the room, obviously interested in the differences between her house common room and this one, Seamus who looked in a bad way, holding fistfuls of his hair and resting his elbows on his knees, plus Parvati, Lavender's best friend, who was crying silently again into her twin's shoulder.

The four filed up the dormitory steps and into the room Harry had chosen the previous night. The room that, coincidently, should have belong to him and Ron had they returned the previous September.

Sitting down on his bed, Harry pulled Ginny into his lap and she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her check against his. Hermione and Ron sat opposite them, Hermione sitting on the floor with her head resting against Ron's knees, and his large hands on her shoulders and he leaned forward into her.

"I don't ever want to cry this much ever again…" Ginny said in a whisper. Ron nodded, Hermione and Harry both squeezed their Weasley subconsciously. Though they too were sad about Fred, not to mention Tonks and Lupin (Andromeda Tonks had picked up the two bodies early in the day before anyone had had time to say a proper goodbye. Harry planned to stop by and see Teddy within the week however) they were determined to be the strong ones.

"We should sleep. McGonagall said we would start the reconstruction right after breakfast…" Hermione said quietly. Why was no one speaking in normal tones? Was that something that would come with time?

"Yeah…" Ron mumbled back. And then the awkward pause, the looks, then finally, some normality.

"Merlin's pants! Ginny get out. You can't sleep in here!"

Ginny took her arms from around Harry's neck, swished her hair from around her neck and glared at Ron. Harry was surprised blue fire did not fly from her menacing gaze.

"And where, is Hermione sleeping tonight Ron? _Hmmmm_? Going to make me sleep up in the girl's dormitories all by myself _tonight_? But then again, when do _you_ make _me _do _anything_! I can do what I please, and if that includes sharing a bed with Harry then I will! It isn't like I'm going to effing _shag_ him with you _right there_!" Her rant ended and she threw her legs into the bed behind Harry, and pushed herself against the footboard, as if daring Ron to make her move.

The next moment was so classically Ron that Harry and Hermione couldn't help but snigger with suppressed laughter. Glaring at his baby sister, but powerless to do anything, Ron just say with his mouth agape, shaking his head slightly. H

Finally taking pity on him, Hermione stood up and beside him on his bed, and kissed him softly, causing Ginny to make a slight gagging sound from her place.

"Just let them be Ron. We can all stay together tonight. I don't think any of us are ready to be alone yet…" Ron nodded and hugged Hermione to him. Looking to Harry he spoke, rather seriously, and Harry could tell he meant it, "No funny business Potter…" And with that he kicked off his trainers and leaned back into his bed, pulling Hermione with him. She squeaked "Ron!" and then the drapes were pulled closed, muffling their quiet talking. A soft _thunk_ came when Hermione kicked off her shoes.

Turning in his bed and placing himself at his headboard, Harry looked at Ginny across from him. Their legs touched and Ginny smiled, obviously thrilled she had won the battle, if not yet the war. Holding out his arms to her Harry invited her up to his level. She kicked off her own shoes first, then crawled up to embrace Harry.

"Too bad Kreacher couldn't bring us something more comfortable to wear." She murmured as she snuggled into his chest and he sank down so he wasn't flat against the headboard.

"I know…" Harry replied in a whisper, so as not to be heard by the occupants of the next bed over, "But he's so busy with Grimauld place from the sounds of it. I don't know how hard it was for him to find me clothes that fit right, let alone clothes for everyone in your family too. I hadn't realized he had done that until Ron mentioned he had asked about something for Hermione. I didn't want to ask for four sets of night clothes as well."

Harry kicked off his still muddy and probably blood stained trainers when he was done speaking. Then pulled the hangings around them closed. When he sat back, Ginny was looking at him with an odd expression on her face.

"What…" He asked, concerned, his hand going to feel his face and pat his hair, wondering what was holding her attention. Reaching out, Ginny pulled him to her, and kissed him, her small hands holding his face, then whispered, "You are such a good person Harry. After all you have been through, you still put others before yourself. You know you could argue that as 'Savior of the Wizarding World' (she quoted the morning Prophet's headline here) you would be entitled to a pair of pajamas…"

Harry shrugged, and Ginny kissed him again. "And of course you don't feel as if you deserve anything…which is completely untrue."

Pulling the soft linens around them, Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and held her close, he could feel the beating of her heart and the small breaths filling her chest. No, she was right. He didn't deserve any special treatment. He was lucky already. Lucky to be alive, to have made it through practically uninjured. But also, he had her. And that was more than most could say. That after everything bad, and everything terrible, he was still able to hold the girl, woman, he loved, close and take comfort in her embrace.

"No…I don't deserve anything more…" And he kissed her one last time, before resting his head back on the pillow they shared and closing his eyes. Ginny's arms came down to rest between their bodies, one arm tucking itself up under the pillow, the other resting against Harry's chest. Within moments he was asleep, his arms slacking around her. She sighed, eyes watering, and rolled over to face the canopy drapes, hugging his arms around her.

She loved him she thought, so much. It wasn't realistic for her to be in love, not at sixteen. But she was…

And with that last thought of love in her mind, she feel asleep. It was the first truly peaceful nights sleep any of the four had had in almost a year, and it was good. No one should ever under estimate the power of a good night's sleep.

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**A/N: I follow Lord_Voldemort7 on twitter. I know, I am a traitor. But hey, the dude it so funny. Here are some pieces of his famously funny tweets in no more than 140 characters…**

_**thingsthedevilinvented: glitter. The herpes of craft supplies.**_

_**"People are like Slinkies; not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs."**_

_**Did Christina Aguilera just screw up America's National Anthem? Wow, and I thought it was bad when I screwed up trying to kill that baby…**_

**AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE…**

_**No, I don't support anorexia. I named my followers Death Eaters, not Death Don't-Eaters.**_


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